Sheila’s having a bad day, but you can't stop sliced bread.

Sheila was making reasonable time, by which she thought, I should arrive fashionably late. This was how her mind worked and that was fine, as it often left her wiggle room on her activities, never too early, never too late. 

Always prepared. 

This worked well enough for her, even if the strange boundaries she left around her mind were disconcerting to others.

That little bit of wiggle room, she thought, was all she’d need in order to make something special for a friend. Didn’t have a lick to do with the party she’d been invited to, that was a less intimate affair undeserving of sweet treats.

Sheila didn’t like sacrificing so much of her comfort for people she didn’t like all that much, so that wiggle room was almost always allocated to something completely unrelated. And though her friend would be in attendance this time around, she knew it was unlikely Biddy would even mention her upcoming Birthday.

Which separated the two activities rather nicely.

Too bad she managed to prove a point about multitasking in the interim though.

It wasn’t as if Sheila were completely incompetent in the kitchen, she’d been cooking for herself ever since she could manage a stepstool. The only difference now was her mindset, it was apparently hard to bake after a break up.

Who knew?

It was fine though, she could just list it as a practice round for Biddy’s birthday. Stopping off on the way would be a fine detour before the party. This was of course hampered by her own dawdling.

Which left her the curiosity of another shopper, who happened to look like the most sociable thing since sliced bread. While she’d yet to learn his name, Sheila had a thing for faces and she knew a bit more about complete strangers than was all together brag worthy.

“I’m sorry miss, I just saw what you were picking out,” he said with minimal flirtation, “If I were to make a suggestion, the crum will come out softer if the ‘water’ added is coffee.”

Sheila looked down at her basket, “What makes you think I have that?” She did, but it was hardly right to presume.

“It’s just the usual thing- I’ve done it with tea before. Though I usually only bother with cold brew in that case.”

“How much cake do you make?” She asked, bristling at the admission.

“Not too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“I’m not sharing that.” He smiled big, shimmying with the type of energy that would usually become a bunny-thump when sitting. This was just another silly thing she’d noticed in the stranger. Well, many strangers. A lot of people really.

“Well, I would take your advice. But it’s for a friend’s birthday, and I’m not sure that’d be a happy surprise.” She said thinking about the caffeine content, it wasn’t really an issue for Biddy, but it was worth it for the anonymity.

“Oh, never mind then,” he backed away, understanding the implications. “Good luck, with your party I mean.” 

“Thanks. I guess.” and they went their separate ways. Sheila continued looking through the topping corner, and he well, she didn’t pay much attention to where he went. 

While his last statement could be perceived as odd, it was not worth examining once she was done with her errand. Sheila had managed her time about as well as she could, barring a few detours, and she was just about ready to socialize. 

She went through the expected greetings, before settling rather quietly into the obscure position of the happy gofer and momentary wallflower. Her position in any given social sequence was one meant to be thoughtless. 

Which was why she’d needed a quick trip around the micromart between hers and the party, even if she’d ‘needed’ supplies, Sheila also needed a monotonous simulacrum in order to feel safe. 

Which all together would sound silly to anyone else. Sheila didn’t have the luxury of a deep dark past to explain away her needs, like was expected of people who didn’t like things. So when she’d say so, the response was almost always more visceral than she would allow herself. 

That she’d learned when she was young. 

Bitty didn’t bother with that though, they rarely talked during bigger parties, but she wasn’t as weirded out by Sheila’s little rituals as most people were. 

That was generally how she thought about things of a social nature, calmed by the thought, she went back to her little tasks.

That is until she saw her Ex, which was really the way of things wasn’t it? Tempting fate with a few thoughts to herself, it shouldn’t surprise her, fate had no need for things like temperance did it?

In any case she kept her head down, until she saw the sliced-bread man, stretched out half way on the couch.

They made eye contact, which would’ve been a mistake if it was anyone else. Luckily, while he looked as sociable as sliced bread, he’d seemed much more fond of actual cake, and was otherwise of mellow character. 

“You know I’ve seen you before.” She says, sitting down across from him.

“Really?”, he smiled like he was the only one aware.

“Yes, do you mind talking with me for a bit?”, She tenses for a minute before lying deeply into the cushions, “For some reason this feels like a better local for the cake talk.”

“Alright, what’re you into?”

“Honestly not much, but I’ve got a feeling you can change that,” she was trying for cool and collected, rather than slimy and avoidant, “What’s your report on cakemix?”

He looked at her for a moment as if she’d grown a second head, before admitting, “I’ve never actually had ‘bad’ cakemix, it’s just not the best thing by itself.”

“So I should just buy flour?”, Sheila wasn’t one for actually measuring ingredients, so while she tried to seem calm, the thought was distressing to say the least.

“Only if you want to,” he shimmied in his spot, having fully reanimated, “I’m mostly just saying that as a proponent of Coffee-in-cake.”

“Good so I can be lazy then.”

“Of course, why buy a mixer if Laziness ain’t worth it?” he’d asked, assuming she had an electric mixer like any reasonable person.

She didn’t, but Sheila was also the sort that couldn’t tell all-purpose from whole-grain, let alone cake flour. The fact that he seemed so giddy would’ve gotten on her nerves if she wasn’t also trying to avoid her Ex, but really, he at least didn’t seem smug.

“I don’t know if I can argue with that.” Sheila said, trying not to agree with what she recognized as her most common praxis, “Is there anything else you wanna say about it?”

“Well, there’s no such thing as a bad cream cheese frosting, unless it’s actually gone bad.”

“That sounds about right, I’ve had cheesecake before.” Sheila thought back to a proper cheesecake she’d gotten courtesy of a wedding, how old it had gotten before she’d managed to eat the whole thing. “I’m curious what counts as ‘gone bad’, what with the sugar content of that type of frosting.” Sheila said as if that wasn’t also a bad idea by the last slice. Still, it was hard to stay on topic considering her ignorance on the subject.

“Same with most young cheeses, you’ve got to make sure that the smell is right. Cream cheese sounds like it should be sweet smelling but it isn’t, you should be careful unless you added the sugar yourself.” his face went a bit discontented for a moment, “I’m boring you.”

“No that’s not-”, she stops herself, Sheila had been lagging, backing away from that and it wasn’t really fair, “I’m out of my depth, I’ve only tried proper baking once and it was a bad idea.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad!” he said, entirely ignorant to her actual level of competence.

“It’s nice that you’ve got faith in me, as a stranger I can’t help but be thankful. The thing is that kinda blind appraisal doesn’t help anyone, and really I’m not equipped at all.” 

“I ain’t blind,” 

“I didn’t say you were, but your appraisal is. You’ve not seen me in a kitchen regarding anything more complicated than a roast, and those you simply throw in a pot.” 

“Well, cake ain’t much more complicated.”

“Maybe you’re blind, cause, that’s just not how cake usually works. That’s some funky skills you’ve got, if you think that’s how it works.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good, it’s how I meant it.”

“Well thanks.”

“Besides, between that and my Ex in the other room, I needed some guidance.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, since we’ve got a friend in common, I’ll be honest about why I’m curious.” she said in reference to the owner of the house they were lazing in. “I was hoping to bake a cake for a friend’s birthday, I can’t say she’s particular, but a bad cake is hardly a ringing endorsement of a person’s mental state no matter how uninitiated they are.”

“I’d think the attempt as proof might imply something.” he smirked, catching her at the failed logic.

“You can say that, but you’re the guy giving rando advice at grocery stores. The last time that happened to me was a twenty-something waxing poetic about the best brand of sprats.”

“You know Kat?”

“Yes apparently.”

“That’s cool, but I don’t see why it’s strange. We’ve literally gone to about ten of these things and you’re still surprised that I know anything about cake.” He said like she knew his name or anything even sort of basic about him.

“What you know ain’t just anything you know. Who the heck knows cream cheese’s freshness by smell?”

“Most mothers?”

“You ain’t been to Pennsylvania have you?”

“Alright, that’s fair.” he said, aware of the state and semi modern midwestern stereotypes, “Are you gonna ask me to bake you a cheater cake?”

“No, but now that you mention it, Bitty would be happier with me if she thought I was back on the love horse.”

“Love horse?”

“Yes. I noticed you’re bad at metaphors.”

“Oh, what’s a- oh wait.” he said the thought hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“Yeah. Dating is horrible, it’s like a party without any sensible rules,” Sheila wasn’t lying, she was the kind of person that would’ve preferred singleness if not for the inexplicable ability of friends, neighbours and total strangers to appoint themselves as guardians against carnal loneliness, but alas malicious compliance is still compliance which was likely why she was still single anyway. “So are you up for it?”

“Alright.” he said, agreeing to become a petty beard and baking teacher. Which was nice since she really didn’t have many options.

They went about swapping numbers, and leaving the party once it was over.

Some things are easy once you decide not to do them, and really that’s just annoying.